


Thinking About my Dead Limbs

by DistantFieldsofRice



Series: Memoirs for Haikyuu [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, How do these tags work, Phone Calls, Pork buns, Shimmer Tsukki, Voicemail, What Have I Done, all relationships platonic, barely revised, don't get any ideas kids, even the pedestrian light haha, everyone is so OOC, first submission, grammar is awful, like Furudate's Harry Potter spinoff, makes no sense to me, milk bread, ugh this is trash, where's the proper comma usage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 07:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14564424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantFieldsofRice/pseuds/DistantFieldsofRice
Summary: It's summer vacation, and everybody is either in Tokyo or Yokohama or has escaped to the air conditioning.Oikawa Yuki is thinking. Thinking hard.





	Thinking About my Dead Limbs

       It's nearly midnight, and I wonder if my mother, snoring from across the house, would be asleep if not for me. If she would instead be situated in the Pacifico Yokohama Theatre or working at some preeminent laboratory, earning more than she would ever need. I'm not sure. It's fifty-fifty.

       I want to sleep, but when I try to do so I become restless to the point where I need to take a walk around the pitch-dark house, trying not to bump into or knock down anything, or make too much noise. Eventually, I gave up and resorted to wasting time on my computer, trying to forget about everything. About school, about summer break, about volleyball, and about everyone I've ever met. I read somewhere that blue light from electronics is supposed to stimulate the brain and therefore make it harder to sleep. Oh well. Maybe I'll just wait out the night or until I pass out from exhaustion.

       There's a call, but I don't answer; let it ring, and a voicemail pops up. It's from Tooru, one of many of his messages. I wonder why he's up as late as I am.  _Yuki, mom,_ he says. a fizzle of static.  _I'm sorry about everything I've done. Please let me come back. I promise it won't happen again._ Every voicemail he's ever left is similar, sounding so humble and sad and very unlike him.  _I'll call again in the morning. I love you, goodbye._

       I want to believe him and I want him to come back, but it isn't safe. True, most of the reports we've gotten are positive: he's at a training camp close to his school, enjoying it. He's smiling and laughing and has made many friends in the past year. He's improving his team, emboldening them to do their best. He's stopped yelling. In his third and final year of high school, he'll be stable enough and maybe we can talk again. There have been no incidents since primary school, since we were separated. Everything is good.

       But Hajime, Tooru's best friend, says that everything isn't good. He's seen Tooru exacting his rage on volleyballs and mops after practice, start crying for no reason in the locker room. And it almost happened again, back when the two were in junior high, to an underclassman who had asked Tooru how to serve.

       In the blue light of the landline and the computer, I realise that I can walk to Tooru and Hajime's school if I wanted to. Tooru could come over and kill me in my sleep if he wanted to. Nothing's happened yet, so I guess we're even.

 

       Tooru, Hajime, mother, and I are in the Miyagi Prefecture, sitting out the remainder of summer. Modern architectural squiggles and some superannuated castles hug up to the mountains and lakes. Bikers pedal on roads that are nearly devoid of cars. Because it's summer break, everyone is either off in Tokyo or Yokohama or has escaped inside to the air conditioning.

       The grocery store nearby sells Tooru's favourite milk bread. He used to hang out in front with Hajime, sometimes an occasional teammate or friend. Mother tells me to forget about him, but it's not easy. I still love him, and I know he misses me.

 

       In the morning, the TV is on. It's really old, a giant box TV that reduces its screen to wavy slits unless you hit the top a few times with a dog-eared copy of  _Shimmer Tsukki_. My mother hits extra hard lately. It must be because I'm leaving for high school next year. Or because she hates the haughty face Tsukki makes on the front, seeming to look down on the ceiling, her, and the world.

       I sit in front of the grocery store, a bag of pork buns next to me. nearly every day is wasted like this, ever since volleyball stopped being fun and Tooru was taken away. After I think about that, I'm suddenly not hungry anymore.

       Hajime calls and I answer. "Hello?"

       "Hey, Yuki. How are you doing?" comes his voice.

       I think hard.  _How am I doing?_

       "Yuki?"

       "I'm bored," I reply. "High school starts next week and mom's been sitting on the couch for the  _entire_ summer." It's a half-truth. She gets up to hit the TV or to sleep in her own room. Otherwise, she's fermenting in the stuffy room while days and shows blend together.

       Hajime is silent for a while before he asks, "Is she treating you well?"

       "Yeah, though she's become more negative. Like, 'Tooru is hopeless' and 'I never want to see him again', and all that." I say with a laugh.

       Hajime sighs. "So she's stopped caring for his wellbeing?"

       "Pretty much."

       "Well," he begins and pauses. "Do you... want to know how he's doing?" he asks cautiously.

       "No, it's okay," I answer. I'm lying.

       The sun is already setting, the pedestrian light blinking to no one, and the pork buns are cold. I sit there for a long while, knees pulled up to my chest, breathing into the receiver. Hajime breathes back. Then we hang up.

 

       It's impossible late, and I still can't sleep. Tooru has sent three voicemails today and I listened to all of them after mother started snoring. They're all the same, and he was crying in two. Why am I listening to them, wasting my time? High school starts in less than five hours, and I'm smashing away on my computer like there's no tomorrow. Like a lazy failure.

       Maybe it's because I suddenly can't remember Tooru's face well. It's been a little more than five years since we've had any contact, and mother threw away all the pictures that had him in it. That just makes me want to see him more.

 

_What I remember About Oikawa Tooru, my Big Brother and Best Friend_

 

_Obstinate as a mule, sometimes._

_Seems like he's awesome and unapproachable at first, but is actually a sore loser and a huge dork one you get to know him._

_Setter on all the teams he's been on._

_Has been playing volleyball since birth._

_Tried to kill me twice, but I forgive him._

 

      Is that it? Sad.

**Author's Note:**

> I really didn't get to revise this.
> 
> I'll try to post every week or two. Sorry in advance if I forget.
> 
> Oh my gosh, I just realised how ancient my writing style is. I'm also sorry for that abrupt ending. I'm rushing.
> 
> If there are any errors, feel free to notify me! I'm open to constructive criticism.
> 
> Check out my buddy FeelsLikeTea!


End file.
